Chapter 715: The Old Tales of Ten Thousand Swords
Wang Po hailed from Tianliang and was not a southerner, but because of the grudges and entanglements between him and the Great Zhou court, the people of the south were very willing to accept him. …Dingdian Novel, .23wx.
Thus, when he became the master of Huaiyuan, he did not face vigilance or hostility; instead, he was welcomed.
Compared to Su Li, his temperament and moral character were more favored by the southerners, making him more trustworthy and reliable.
In other words, he was more suited than Su Li to be the banner of the south, but first, he needed to raise that banner.
The entire south had been waiting for the day he would break through into the Divine Domain, only no one expected that day to come so early or so suddenly that no one was prepared.
Today, his iron blade severed the sky of the capital, raised the fluttering banner in the wind, and the south finally had its own flag.
Aside from those legendary beings whose existence could no longer be verified, he was the youngest person to enter the Divine Domain.
Perhaps in the future, the younger generation represented by Qiushan Jun might surpass his achievements, but no one could be certain.
……
……
On the banks of Luo River, three carriages slowly withdrew, and the cold willow branches swayed gently in the wind, unable to hold them back.
Watching this, the Second Master of the Tang family had a very gloomy expression but did nothing. The two divine generals and the several hundred cavalry of the Feather Forest also remained silent.
The three carriages seemed unremarkable, but they represented the entire Tiannan region, clearly indicating their stance.
They could no longer do anything, for that would mean the court and the Tang family of Wenshui were turning against the entire south.
No one could bear that responsibility, not even the important figure sent by the Tang family of Wenshui to the capital.
In the entire capital, even the entire continent, only one person could bear that responsibility now.
Daoist Shang Xingzhou.
The Second Master of the Tang family withdrew his gaze from that direction and looked toward a certain place in the north.
Of the two tasks to be accomplished today, one had already failed, and the remaining one was even more important.
The position of the Pope represented the vast resources and power of the national religion, like an abyss or a sea; there could be no more mistakes.
Chen Changsheng must die.
Clouds and snow, like sheep driven by a whip, moved slowly through the gloomy sky.
The sage of White Emperor City was temporarily balancing the situation in the detached palace.
The southerners would not care about Chen Changsheng’s life or death or the survival of the national religion; people like the head of the Qiushan family would be very happy to see Chen Changsheng die.
No one should come to save Chen Changsheng now.
Calculating this way, today could be considered a draw.
……
……
The three carriages drove out of the capital without any obstruction.
The Five Mile Plain, covered in snow, revealed its full form on the other side of the Bai River. After crossing the bridge, they could take the official road back south.
Guan Feibai signaled the carriages to stop, said a few words to the head of the Qiushan family, bowed, and prepared to leave.
The curtain of the front carriage was lifted, revealing Wang Po’s somewhat pale face.
“What are you going to do?”
Guan Feibai said, “That guy should be in a lot of trouble now. I’ll go see if I can help.”
When he said this, his tone was very natural, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, so even though his voice was steady, it carried a strong sense of righteousness.
Wang Po laughed, thinking that the Lishan Sword Sect was indeed extraordinary; these young disciples were far better than Senior Su Li.
“No need to go,” he continued. “That guy has his own arrangements; he doesn’t need more help.”
From the Vice Minister’s residence to the North City, they had talked a lot by the Luo River, about Wang Zhice and the Zhou Garden, the Dao of the blade and the soul of the sword, and naturally, they also discussed what was about to be done.
That guy had asked him to help hold back Iron Tree, and nothing else.
Wang Po had done more—he had cut down Iron Tree—so that guy would naturally be able to finish the rest.
……
……
Snow fell on the ruins, on that guy’s shoulders.
A sword light emerged from the wind and snow, like lightning.
At this moment, the sword light was still over ten zhang away, but in the next moment, it would arrive. The sword of a Star Gathering realm expert could ignore this distance.
Chen Changsheng did not look, still staring at Xiao De, completely ignoring that sword light, appearing somewhat overly arrogant.
But that was not the case. When the sword light appeared, he had already drawn his sword, but no one noticed except Xiao De, who was very close.
A crisp sword cry rang out through the courtyard deep in the North Bingma Si Alley.
That was the sound of two swords clashing.
The wind and snow suddenly scattered, and an expert from the Qingli Division was forced to reveal himself, grunting as he retreated.
A gap the size of a grain of rice appeared on the sword in his hand.
This was his sect’s mountain sword, which he treasured greatly, but he had no time to grieve now, his heart full of shock.
He stared at the snowy air in front of him, his face pale, as if he had seen a ghost.
In the snowy air, an ancient-looking sword floated, emitting a low hum.
What sword was this? It could actually damage his sect’s mountain sword?
More importantly, where did this sword come from?
While he was still in extreme shock, another sword light pierced through the wind and snow, stabbing toward Chen Changsheng.
This sword light was even more treacherous, rising from two feet below the ground at an extremely tricky angle, carrying a hint of the Witch Clan’s sword techniques.
Chen Changsheng saw this sword light but still did not move.
The cold wind suddenly became chaotic, and an old sword appeared before that sword light, as if born out of thin air.
The two swords met, and the sound of swords clashed wildly.
With a strange cry, an assassin from the Tianji Pavilion fell awkwardly from a tree into a snowdrift, a bleeding wound on his left shoulder.
“What is this!”
The Tianji Pavilion assassin activated his movement technique, wildly swinging his sword, desperately fending off the pursuit of that old sword, shouting in extreme shock.
Then, several muffled thunder-like impacts sounded in the snowy air.
Several of the Great Zhou military experts who had been charging head-on let out strained grunts and were knocked back to the base of the courtyard wall.
Their hands holding their swords trembled slightly, their expressions very serious.
Several more swords appeared out of thin air in the snowy air, but unlike the ghostly swords that had appeared earlier, these swords were noticeably heavier and thicker.
Even after being worn by hundreds of years of time, these heavy swords still contained terrifying power.
A strange atmosphere enveloped the courtyard.
No one made another move.
With a clear cry, the old sword that had been chasing the Tianji Pavilion assassin broke through the snow and flew back, stopping in front of Chen Changsheng.
Over a dozen swords hung silently in the air around him, catching the falling snowflakes, guarding all directions.
These swords had different shapes and different auras, but they shared one common trait: they were all very old.
Some swords even showed traces of rust, but that did not dull their edges.
Watching this scene, the court’s experts recalled the rumor, and their expressions became extremely serious, even beginning to show fear.
If that rumor was true, then this should only be the beginning.
Indeed, in the next moment, they heard many sounds.
Clang, clang, clang, clang!
It was not the sound of swords rubbing against scabbards, but the sound of sword blades cutting through the snowy air.
Countless swords flew out from in front of Chen Changsheng.
Like countless fish surging out of a deep pool.
In the courtyard, the sword intent surged, the sword light blazed, overwhelming even the colors of the wind and snow.